


At The Ballet

by MaryaDmitrievnaLikesSundays



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - Mortal, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Ballet, Competition, Dancer!Will, Enemies to Lovers, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Mortality, Mutual Pining, Pining, Tension, dancer!Nico
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:07:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27551266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaryaDmitrievnaLikesSundays/pseuds/MaryaDmitrievnaLikesSundays
Summary: Finally, Will took his final bow and pranced offstage to thunderous applause. He exited into Nico’s wing and shot him a smile. It was hard to hear, but Nico thought he might have whispered “Beat that,” as he passed.Nico wanted to turn around and smack him, but just then his name was called, and he had to turn towards the stage and remember who he was. He was Nico di Angelo, the best contemporary dancer in all of Venice and the Upper East Side. And now he had to show it.He took a deep breath, and started towards the spotlight waiting for him.——Or, the dance competition au featuring Rivals! Will and NicoPS: if you’re a Loyola admissions worker reading this, I wrote this one just for fun it’s not my best work, feel free to keep scrolling
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Nico di Angelo & Percy Jackson, Nico di Angelo/Will Solace
Comments: 10
Kudos: 115





	At The Ballet

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this just for myself because god knows no one else wants it

There was something inherently disgusting about William Solace.

Nico scowled at him from across the dressing room as he slipped on his black dance flats. Will was over there in his stupid sparkly costume with his stupid blonde hair bouncing wildly, not even pinned back from his face. He should have been disqualified just for that, Nico thought. But of course, the judges would love whatever overdone ballet routine he pulled out of his ass enough to ignore his total disregard for dance etiquette.

Percy Jackson slid into the spot next to Nico. He looked between him and Will and smiled.

"Still glaring at the ballerina?" he asked.

Nico stood. "Yes, actually. I'm sick of him winning for a routine worth half of mine. He doesn't even use his own choreo, he just recycles old variations. It's bullshit."

Percy shrugged. His blue leotard pulled around his shoulders. Nico wondered what his dance partner, Annabeth, was wearing. "Well, you do that new wave edgy stuff. The panel doesn't always like that."

Nico scoffed and started tweaking his makeup with a random brush next to his hand. "That's the problem, but I'm not waiting for the one contemporary comp a year to compete. I want to win." _I want to beat Will Solace_ stayed unspoken.

"His technique is impeccable, though, you have to admit. I mean, that Balanchine claw? _Damn_."

Nico shot a glance at Will's fingers, applying body shimmer with a light hand. They were gently splayed, as if he were prepared to leap into fifth position at a moment's notice. His fingers were, admittedly, perfect for a Balanchine ballet: long, thin, and strong at the same time. Nico's ears started to glow red with anger.

Percy smirked beside him. "Admiring the technique?"

Nico's cheeks heated up. "Shut up, Jackson," he murmured, turning back to the mirror. "I just can't wait to see his fingers holding a participation trophy."

Percy snorted. Nico was sure he was about to try to insinuate that Nico had a crush on Will again--which could not be further from the truth--when Annabeth walked in and placed a hand on Percy's shoulder. Her dress, a simple unitard with a single-layer chiffon skirt, matched Percy's deep blue costume.

"Don't tease him too much," she said, "At least let him pretend it's just about the competition."

Nico rolled his eyes. "You're not supposed to be here, it's the men's room."

"I don't see a single _man_ in here."

Percy laughed and leaned down to kiss her. She swatted his hand away from her perfectly-sprayed bun. He pulled back with a laugh.

A voice over the intercom announced places for the first number. A group of boys in matching nude costumes left, nervously checking their hair and stretching their feet as the walked.

Will left straight behind them, no doubt going to stand in the wings for a solid fifteen minutes before his set.

When he turned back, Annabeth and Percy were staring at him with amusement.

”Well?” Annabeth asked. “Aren’t you gonna go scout the competition?”

Nico cursed. “Yeah,” he said. “Better than watching you two suck face.”

Nico stood sharply and left for the stage, pretending not to hear the couple laughing behind him, on a background of hairspray and warmup music.

——

Nico nudged his way into the dark wings, and Willl’s golden hair stuck out like a sore thumb. Nico smiled at how out of place his sparkling costume looked among the shadows.

Minutes passed, act after act that were good, sure, but no match for Nico. He hadn’t gotten anything less than top three in years. Usually, he came in first, unless Will goddamn Solace showed up and stole his spot with flashy costumes and old-school variations. Some kid fell on stage. Another group did a well-practiced but simple routine. All around beatable.

Then, suddenly, Will was gone. Nico looked for his glittery fabric in the sea of backstage dancers radiating anxiety, but there was nothing there. A look towards the stage told him everything he needed to know: Will was taking his beginning position, and the audience fell silent.

The music started, a rush of trumpets, and Nico cursed. Right away, Will leapt into a grand jete, and his split extended far past a 180. Clearly, he was pulling no punches today.

Will’s routine was, for lack of a better word, fucking fantastic. His movements were precise and energetic, his body portrayed a character, and goddamn, his back was flexible. Seriously, did this guy have any vertebrae?

Nico realized he was staring at Will’s back muscles and quickly looked away.

Over the next three minutes, Will executed impossible jumps, pliés, and tondus. He even had to go and pull out the _quadruple pirouette_. Nico wanted to strangle him, it was so goddamn perfect.

Finally, Will took his final bow and pranced offstage to thunderous applause. He exited into Nico’s wing and shot him a smile. It was hard to hear, but Nico thought he might have whispered “Beat that,” as he passed.

Nico wanted to turn around and smack him, but just then his name was called, and he had to turn towards the stage and remember who he was. He was Nico di Angelo, the best contemporary dancer in all of Venice and the Upper East Side. And now he had to show it.

He took a deep breath, and started towards the spotlight waiting for him.

——

Will wasn’t entirely sure why Nico di Angelo hated him so much.

Like, sure, they could be called ‘rivals,’ always competing for the top spot at mixed-genre dance competitions. But competitors could still be friends, and Will had tried the same thing.   
  


Nico had refused. He had shut down all of Will’s attempts at conversations, friendly introductions, or invitations to warm up together. He seemed hell bent on hating Will, and even if Will wasn’t entirely sure why, he had given up on any pretense of kindness at this point.

Besides, it was kind of fun to have an enemy. Sure, he didn’t actually wish Nico any harm, but watching him get riled up over just a couple words was always a good time.

Which was why, when Will met his glare as he exited into the wings, he couldn’t help but whisper, “Beat that,” into his ear.

Will forced himself not to look back at Nico’s expression, instead grabbing the water bottle he’d left backstage and chugging half of it. That was probably one of his hardest routines, but despite a couple of slip ups, he felt pretty confident.

Will had planned on resting in the dressing room until awards, but something about Nico’s music was too intriguing, the dissonant chords and minor key.

He turned back just in time to see Nico land a midair spin into a split. He rolled from that into a relevé, which turned into a flawless arabesque in a single beat. And somehow the bend just. Kept. Going.

Will tore his eyes away. Nico was good. Nico was really, really good. Like, Will-had-always-found-him-attractive-but-seeing-him-dance-almost-made-him-explode good. And for fucks sake, did his dark hair have to look that good pulled into a half-ponytail?

Will forced himself to turn away and walk into the quiet hallway before he could spontaneously combust.

He headed towards the dressing room and found it empty, with the lights off and the sharp stench of hairspray still hanging in the air. Ripped tights and bobby pins littered the floor. Will was pretty sure he saw some hate-note stuffed into someone’s dance bag. He smiled; it felt like home.

He sat in the spot the floor next to his bag and idly stretched his ankles, trying to calm his breathing. Nico hated him, he knew that. So why did he get so airy over watching him dance?

Okay, yeah, he was definitely crushing on him. He had been for a while, at least since last winter’s Ithaca competition, when Nico’s eyeliner made Will’s throat go dry. With those cheekbones, who could blame him? But Nico didn’t like him, not a single bit, and Will would just have to accept that.

Applause sounded from far away, and Will figured Nico’s dance was over. He sighed. This competition would be a close one between them. Honestly, it was hard to care who won.

Will stood and grabbed a makeup wipe from someone else’s bag, rubbing away the glittery eyeshadow. It didn’t feel right anymore. He just wanted to go to sleep.

As he went to wipe off his lip tint, the door opened behind him. He wondered who else would be back there with him, but the accented voice gave him his answer.

”What are you playing at here?”

Will turned and saw Nico, his hair falling out of its ponytail, sweat making his eyeliner run. His stomach jumped. “W-what?” He asked.

Nico took a step forwards. “You’ve never instigated during a performance. You barely ever go full out. Today, you do both. What are you trying to pull?”

Will scoffed. “Why do I need to have an agenda? My life doesn’t revolve around some goth Italian’s schedule.”

Nico’s face twisted in anger and some other emotion that Will couldn’t quite place. “Why do I even have to go up against you? We’re in opposite categories!”

”Fuck if I know. Ask the judges panel.”

”I would, if you weren’t their favorite golden boy.”

Will stood. Playful rivalry he could stomach. But Nico saying the judges played favorites for Will out of hundreds of contestants was as stupid as it was insulting.

”Are you saying I win just because I’m sucking up to the panel?” Will asked, his shoulders squared.

”Well, it’s not your stolen choreo, your cheesy music, or your tacky glitter tulle.”

Music started faintly in the distance. Will recognized it as the song Annabeth and Percy had been practicing at the studio. He was getting too angry to care.

”Alright, edgelord,” he shot back, “It’s not ‘stolen choreo,’ it’s a classical variation. Ever heard of it? Or are you so caught up in your post-modern bullshit that you forget anything else?”

Nico’s fists balled, and he stomped towards Will until they were only a foot or so apart. For a second, Will was scared he might get punched. Nico was thin and lithe, but his dancing proved him to be more than strong enough to knock Will out.   
  


But Nico held his ground and replied, his voice low, “You have a lot of nerve for a boy covered in rhinestones.”

”Oh yeah?” Will shot back, trying not to focus on how Nico’s smudged eyeliner accented his brownbone, or the way his stray hairs framed his face a little too well. “Is the five-foot-six emo trying to threaten me?”

Nico’s mouth twisted into a snarl. “Shut up.”

”Make me.”

For a second, Nico’s face blanked, and Will thought he’d gone a step too far. He braced himself for a punch, but the strike he’d been expecting never came.

Instead, Nico grabbed the front of Will’s leotard in his fist and crashed their lips together.

Will let out a little shocked sound as their teeth clashed. Nico pulled back for just a second, maybe to take a breath, maybe to regret his spontaneous action, but Will didn’t let that happen. He grabbed the back of Nico’s neck and held him there. Their mouths moved together in time, and Will gasped as Nico’s tongue swiped at his lower lip. He parted his lips and Nico delved further, and Will let him, _God almighty_ he let him. Somehow, he didn’t even realize straight away, Nico pressed him into the wall, and his hands were on Will, so close, so strangely gentle. This was better than any Heaven Will could dream up, better than winning a national Grand Prix or picking a million dollars up off the street.

The door opened again. Nico didn’t pull away immediately, but when he did, Will saw a stunned ensemble member in the doorway. Brand new to the prix, she couldn’t have been more than twelve.

She shuck herself out of her stupor. “Sorry,” she muttered, fumbling for a bag next to the doorframe. “I just—my brother sent me to get his b-bag, I’ll just...”

She looked between Nico and Will like they might kill her. Will just wished she would _leave_ so he could get back to what he was doing. Nico must have thought the same thing, because he shot her a trademark glare and she quickly left and slammed the door behind her.

Will turned back to Nico. He was suddenly extremely aware of Nico’s hands on his hips, and the way Will’s fingers had combed through Nico’s immaculate ponytail, destroying it into a mess of black locks.

The awards announcer started over the intercom and Nico slowly pulled away, brushing himself off.

When Will was sure his voice would work again, he gulped and said, “S-so, wanna go see who won?”

Nico seemed to consider himself, Will’s swollen lips, and the empty room they were in. He shrugged. 

“I’ve got better things to do.”

And before Will knew it, his lips were claimed again.

**Author's Note:**

> comment or else


End file.
